Not hard stuff All we want’s soft touch We need love No, we can’t find something that simple I could, I could It’s a wonder what exists beyond the veil every moment without you is a seizure an epileptic time frame of shooting stars No, we can’t find something that simple I could, I could No, we can’t find something that simple I could, I could I carved in mountains valleys The satisfying blood-letting Of a floating generation fearing disease Ravaged, angry, hungry, begging the tide of loveless seas to release (my mistress and) me Oh how dearly we depart in deafening darkness To what seems in a broad sense to be The greatest blasphemy
Wings Clipped
Wings Clipped